


Reaching In The Dark

by lenaisawriter



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Erchomai Aftermath, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Medium Angst, One Shot, POV Alec Lightwood, POV Alternating, POV Isabelle Lightwood, POV Magnus Bane, Post-Episode: s03e10 Erchomai, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, these kids just went through a lot in these two eps okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 00:38:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16074716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenaisawriter/pseuds/lenaisawriter
Summary: The direct aftermath of 3x10 "Erchomai".





	Reaching In The Dark

Isabelle almost laughs with relief when Jace bursts into the lobby, when he turns to her and his eyes flash gold. _He’s back, he’s back, he’s back. They did it._

New strength floods her body, gives her the energy to hold off Lilith’s puppets a little longer. Her staff is a silver blur, Luke a reassuring presence at her back. _We can win this. It ends tonight._

When the explosion shakes the building Izzy’s ears ring. They keep on ringing as she and Luke drag the unconscious mundanes out of the building and to the other side of the street, not sure if the high-rise will remain standing or if the force of the blast is enough to bring it down on them. Her blood runs cold as she sees that the top floor has been reduced to a smoking, crumbling ruin. Her eyes search for a sign of Jace, Simon or Clary. _They made it out. They made it out. They must have._

 Through the ringing she hears someone screaming in the distance -- the back alley behind the building. Her feet start running before her brain can catch up. When she rounds the corner the sight stops her dead in her tracks: Magnus kneeling on the asphalt, bent over a body sprawled out on the ground, screaming, screaming out his lungs for help, god, _somebody help_ . Izzy’s jaw clenches so tightly her teeth hurt, she can’t breathe. On the ground, chest barely rising, eyes half-closed, is Alec. His right wrist is twisted in a way that looks _wrong._ A single arrow sticks out of his chest. One of _Alec’s_ arrows. _He needs help. Why is no one coming. Where is everyone?_

 She barely notices Luke running up behind her, doesn’t quite hear him as he calls the Institute, then Maryse. Suddenly she’s on the ground beside Magnus, cradling her brother’s uninjured hand that is still holding his stele and Magnus’ hand. The world around Izzy disappears until it’s just her and Magnus and Alec, who has gone still, so still. At some point tears had started flowing down her face all on their own, soaking Alec’s shirt, the perfect companion for Magnus’ dry, hoarse sobs. When the medics show up and she has to let go of Alec’s hand, she clings to Magnus instead. _If you let go I’m not sure I can stand._

 They manage to get up somehow, and follow through the portal into the Institute. Every Shadowhunter within sight of them is staring in shock at the leader of the New York Institute lying on a stretcher, broken and bleeding and seemingly lifeless. _Stop looking at him. Stop looking at_ us _._

 She finds herself outside the infirmary, this time holding not one hand but two. Her mother is  gripping her right hand tightly, her left hand is still holding Magnus’ right, strangely cold and clammy. Not too long ago they had been in this exact same spot, waiting for news about Max, if he would make it. That time, her big brother had been there, on this side of the door. Now he’s on the other. _He has to make it. He will._

 It’s nearly morning when a Silent Brother opens the door and gives his typical emotionless rundown of the diagnosis and procedures. Izzy’s thoughts catch on only a few words, and she nearly weeps: Stable condition. Expected to make a full recovery. _Thank the angel._

* * *

 

A full recovery. Magnus barely hears the rest of the Silent Brother’s speech, but those words are enough. He releases a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. His legs give out and he sinks back onto his chair. He feels unbelievably tired. _But Alexander will be alright. He made it._

 After a short discussion with the Silent Brother, Maryse, and Isabelle, it’s decided that everyone should try and get a few hours of rest. Alec is sleeping now and won’t wake up anytime soon. Izzy offers to let him sleep in Alec’s room, but he knows he couldn’t take that right now. He needs to go home. Maryse calls him a cab. _If you could see me now Alexander… no. You shouldn’t see me like this._

 Magnus is shivering as he steps into the loft. Now that he is alone the strange new void inside him yawns like a chasm, cold and dark and hollow emptiness where his magic used to be. He had never felt as helpless as when he’d held Alec’s hand back in the alleyway. When Magnus was so afraid to leave him alone he couldn’t even run to get help. When he had to watch his love in pain, getting closer to death, and couldn’t do a single thing. _My magic. It’s gone._

 The stench of his father’s realm clings to him, to his clothes, his skin, his hair. Dust. Smoke. Decay. He has to get out of these clothes, take a bath. _Maybe I’ll feel like myself again. Just a little._

 He makes the bathwater as hot as he can tolerate and lowers himself in gingerly. His muscles ache like he’s run a marathon and then bench pressed an elephant. The heat relaxes his limbs even though it stings on his skin. Magnus lets his head sink under the water and closes his eyes. Down here there are no sounds but his own heartbeat in his ears. He toys with the thought of not coming up at all. Then he sits up and hugs his knees. They’re bruised and bloody from kneeling on the concrete. Magnus didn’t notice before, but the dull ache is starting to make them hard to ignore. It’s difficult to breathe, like a weight pressing on his chest. After a while Magnus is pretty sure it’s not from holding his breath.

 Eventually Magnus steps out of the bathtub and heads to bed. He curls up under the covers, on one side of the bed. The other is painfully empty. Even after the hot bath a chill runs through his body. Like his bone marrow has turned to ice. It feels like a part of him has been removed, like his central nervous system has been ripped out through his skin. Magnus feels like crying, but no tears seem to be left. He feels like shouting, but his throat is still raw. So he just curls up even tighter and waits for sleep to come.

* * *

  
An ache, in his chest, like he’s been punched. Just below his collarbone. He curls the fingers on his right hand, and a shooting pain stabs up his arm. _Ow. Ow ow ow. Fuck._

 Around him there are quiet voices, the soft hum of machinery. The infirmary. He wants to open his eyes, but they won’t cooperate. He swallows and his throat feels like sandpaper. He croaks out something that sounds vaguely like _water._

The commotion begins immediately. Chairs scraping, feet scrambling to get up, voices getting cautiously louder. People crowding around the bed, someone holds a glass of water to his lips, lifts his head a little. A hand slides into his. Alec finally manages to open his eyes.

 He looks up into the faces of his family and friends. There’s his mother to his right, holding the glass of water. She smiles and runs a hand through his hair.

 Jace is standing by the foot of the bed. He cradles his right wrist close to his chest, feeling his brother’s pain through their bond. He looks terrible, his eyes are red with dark circles etched underneath them. His shirt is filthy with dirt, blood, and some indeterminable black slime. He still manages to shoot Alec a weak grin and puts a gentle hand on his blanket-covered foot. _He’s back, though. Magnus did it._

 Simon is somehow still sleeping in a chair in the corner. He looks even worse than Jace, though he’s at least wearing fresh clothes. Probably because his old ones were unsalvageable. There are tear tracks down his soot-covered cheeks. Next to him sits Luke, shoulders hunched, defeated. He tries to give Alec a reassuring look, but fails.

 Izzy sits on his bed, one knee pulled up next to his hip. She at least looks like she’s slept in the last 24 hours. Her relieved smile can’t hide the smudged eyeliner and mascara around her eyes. She’s holding a tissue bunched up in her fist. _What have you been crying about, Iz?_

 A thumb rubs over the back of his left hand. On instinct, Alec squeezes softly. Magnus squeezes back. Alec is so relieved he feels like crying too. Even though Magnus’ hand is not warm like it should be. Even though he looks too tired. _No._ _Everything’s gonna be alright. Magnus is here. He’s okay._

 Alec has questions, of course. What happened after he passed out? Did they defeat Lilith? What about Jonathan? Did the possessed mundanes recover? Was anyone else hurt?

 The others answer in turn. Then come the more painful questions: Where is Clary? _Magnus, why are you so quiet?_

 Jace can’t finish recounting the events on the rooftop, he’s crying. Maryse walks over to hug him. Izzy continues, but her breath hitches in her throat as well. She tells him about the explosion, about Clary being gone when Jace got up there. About Simon being convinced he killed his best friend.

 He looks over at Simon, who, mercifully, slept through this explanation. Alec can’t imagine the night he must have had.

 Thankfully, Izzy says, they’re now pretty certain that Jonathan has somehow taken Clary (it says a lot about their lives in general that this is the good option). Jace and Simon looked for her all night and half the morning, and have only just returned. Luke has tried rallying the werewolves, but precious few are responding. It’s been a difficult morning, to say the least.

 Something in Alec’s chest contracts tightly. Clary is annoying, sure, and stubborn, and hot-headed, and sometimes full of herself-- but she’s part of the team. Part of the family. Suddenly he misses the little fire-haired idiot terribly. His mind is already racing through their options, the resources they have at their disposal, when Izzy stops his train of thought with a very careful swat at his side. She gives him a look, she knows what he’s thinking. But first he needs to rest, to heal. She’s right of course.

 So Maryse ushers everyone out of the room, even Simon, who is barely staying upright but still seems glad to see Alec awake. At last it’s only him and Magnus.

 Alec finally asks the question that’s been hanging on his lips since he woke up, the question he is not sure he wants answered but can’t live without asking.

  _What’s wrong, Magnus?_

 When Magnus finishes his own recounting of last night’s events, Alec’s eyes sting and his hands are shaking. Of all the things he had thought it would take to bring Jace back, of all the prices he’d been willing to pay to get his brother back, _this_ was _not_ one of them. It was never supposed to be _this_. He was ready to let Jace tear him apart to buy some time, to put his own life on the line. But not Magnus’. That was out of the question and even the thought of Magnus endangering himself to fix a mistake he’d had nothing to do with makes him nauseous.

 Magnus looks pale. His usual clean smell of sandalwood is still there, but the metallic, smoky undertone of power is gone. There is tension in his shoulders. His skin is colder than usual, and he shivers a little when he thinks Alec isn’t looking. Alec’s heart breaks everytime he looks at him. Because of him, the man he loves let his own father tear a part of him out, leaving cold nothing where there used to be power, burning and strong and so, so alive. Because of him, Magnus’ magic is gone.

 Alec pulls on Magnus’ hand, pulls him closer until he’s sitting on Alec’s bed, until he’s lying down with his head tucked into the crook of Alec’s neck, one arm wrapped carefully across Alec’s chest, their legs tangled, their deep breaths slowly synchronising. They lie like this for what feels like hours, until Alec manages to find his voice again, speaking past the lump that’s formed in his throat. _I’m so sorry. Thank you._

 The guilt is eating into Alec’s stomach like a hungry animal. He doesn’t deserve any of this, and he especially doesn’t deserve Magnus. Suddenly, saying _thank you_ feels incredibly stupid. What is he even thankful _for_ ? _Thank you Magnus, for sacrificing all your power to solve_ my _problem? Thank you for caring so much about your disaster of a boyfriend, who has never sacrificed anything for you, not like this at least? Thank you for being a friend?_ It feels like an insult to everything Magnus has done. No, _thank you_ is not enough. He’s not sure anything he could say would ever _be_ enough.

 Maybe Magnus didn’t hear him, Alec thinks, or maybe he fell asleep. But finally he swallows, whispers half into Alec’s shoulder. _This was_ my _decision. You have nothing to apologize for._

 Alec turns his head and presses a kiss to Magnus’ forehead. Now the tears that were just a sting a little while ago roll down his cheeks, some of them falling into Magnus’ hair, tasting bitter with grief. But they take Alec’s guilt and regret and self-loathing with them, leaving an empty, clean feeling in his chest.

 Magnus’ grip around Alec tightens, as though he wants to still the sobs that are passing through Alec’s body with only his arms, but his own body shuddering makes this attempt futile. They hold tightly to each other, the exhaustion and shock of the last few days finally catching up with them, the realization settling in how lucky they both are to still be able to hold each other after all that has happened.

 After a while, the tears stop. The sobs turn into calm breaths, the exhaustion into sleep. For Magnus at least. In the moments before he drifts away too, Alec runs his hand up and down the back of Magnus’ neck, through the soft, closely cropped hair, over the clasps of many necklaces resting around his shirt collar. His eyelids are heavy, Magnus’ breath warm on his collarbone. _I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, I’ll find a way. I promise._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. If you liked this story please leave a comment, so that I may gain strength and ascend to a higher plane of existence. A huge thank you also to my friends and betas disaster-lesbiab, beesarekind and raisehades on Tumblr, without whom I would crumple up my stories and eat them whole, and they'd never be published.
> 
>  
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> [If you like Shadowhunters why not go listen to my super awesome Shadowsquad playlist?](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1IbVvQ9vo7YReOr0AhHO6D)
> 
>  
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> Edit 26/12/18: This story now has over 100 kudos! Thank you so much to everyone who left one. Remember to please leave a comment if you liked this story, they are the only thing that sustains me inside this mortal coil, thx!


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